Learning
by A.Boleyn
Summary: DL. How do you feel about being crazy and spontaneous? As their relationship grows, it's going to be a learning process. COMPLETE.
1. Full Strawberry Moon

**Disclaimer:** these characters do not belong to me, however, I do have visitation rights. Any legal concerns should be addressed to my muse.

**Rating:** K+, for now at least

**Author's Note: Caution: extreme sap ahead.** Don your boots! If you do not like sappy fluff, now is your chance to turn around and head back the way you came. Run, don't walk. This fic was meant to explore the day-to-day ups and down of relationships, but will maintain a fluffy idealism throughout. It's _me_ we're talking about, remember, so don't expect angst. Although it addresses "Snow Day" initially, it is not a post-episode fic. Will be complete in about seven parts.

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_**Learning - Part I  
**_

**Full Strawberry Moon**

He had paid some homeless guy twenty bucks for this.

Twenty bucks to hold the spot; to watch over the picnic basket and blanket, to make sure no one made themselves at home, or stole the bottle of wine. Hey, the wine itself cost more than he would ever have imagined spending a year ago.

But it was all for her.

And it was worth it, too. Watching that smile light up Lindsay's face as they walked across the grass, her small, soft hand gripping his, that was all Danny needed. Pure and simple, at long last, she was his. Life, he figured, could not get any better. It had been like this since that first glorious morning he had woken up with her beside him, his back stiff from the pool table but his heart soft as mush. He had arrived to the lab late that day, not because he overslept, but because he couldn't tear his eyes from her. For twenty minutes, he just stood there at his kitchen counter, grinning like a fool, watching her slumber. His Montana was finally _his_. The waiting, the heartbreak, it has all been worth it. Deep down, even when she had turned away, he had always known not to give up on her. He had been right all along, to see this through, and now he couldn't imagine having to wake up without her.

Not that it had been smooth sailing since that fine morning. Fate had tried to throw them for a loop. The first night after the warehouse incident, she had stayed with him—her first time in his bed, ironically. They slept huddled together, he gritting his teeth from the pain. He was too stubborn to rely on the prescription drugs sent home with him. He had seen what happened when people got hooked on that stuff, how messed up they got. So he tried to divert his mind from the pain by counting her breaths, watching the moonlight shift over her body as the hours progressed. In the following days, her beauty was the poultice to his pain. She didn't mother him, or attempt to help unless he asked. Quietly and firmly, she was just _there_. For months it had been all he could do for her, his presence softly in the background, lighting her way. Now she was returning the favor.

For almost a week after Danny's injury, sleep was all they _could_ do. Six days passed before frustration and longing overcame caution and hesitance. Three times on the pool table had only whetted their appetites, and they were hungry for more of each other. It was an endeavor that was awkward and full of shy laughter as they tried to maneuver around his cast. Despite Lindsay thwacking her arm on it more than once, it had been everything he needed. Only then did he feel the healing process truly begin. His hand was getting better slowly, the bones becoming as solidly fused as their relationship.

Now here they were, arriving at the picnic spot he had set up, the perfect vantage point to watch the fireworks.

On top of the blue down blanket lay a bundle of flowers, tied with a gingham ribbon. "These look familiar," Lindsay laughed, kicking off her flip-flops and sitting down. They were daisies: classy and feminine, subtle yet a little wild. To Danny, no other flower could symbolize her better. He plopped down next to her, smiling as she investigated the contents of the picnic basket. He loved watching her—it amazed him how just one person added to his life could make him this happy, this content. His heart swelled with joy.

"What's in here?" she murmured curiously. "Wine… cherries… ooh, chocolate-cheesecake fudge!"

"How'd the apartment hunt go today?" Danny inquired, as she continued inspecting the treasures. While he had been arranging this special outing, Lindsay had spent her day walking all over the city, searching for a new place to live.

"I had no luck at all," she moaned. "Every place I looked at was either too expensive, too dirty, too close to a construction site, or all of the above."

"Why isn't your lease being renewed?"

"My landlord is selling out," she explained, licking melty fudge from the tips of her fingers. "The building is being turned into a hotel."

He smiled easily. "Something will turn up, I'm sure. Don't stress yourself out, kiddo."

"You're right, let's just enjoy our night. This was so sweet of you." She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face to hers, thanking him with a deep, chocolatey kiss.

He loved kissing her. With women in his past, kissing had always been rushed, simply a means to get further. But with Lindsay, he could kiss her for hours, slow and sensual, and get lost in it. Sadly, there was no time for this tonight. "You know," he said, pulling away reluctantly, "we should probably open the wine. The fireworks will start in a little while." He presented the bottle to Lindsay for approval.

"I'm impressed," she said, raising an eyebrow as she read the label aloud. "Alphonse Mellot Pinot Noir. 2003 vintage. Nice pick."

"Not exactly a Suzie-Q, or whatever it was, but I wanted it to be something special."

She laughed. "Chateau Suzanne, you mean. And this is _perfect_." She passed it back to Danny for uncorking, then they filled the plastic wine goblets and toasted each other.

They picnicked until they could eat or drink no more, the setting sun casting an amber-bronze glow over the park. Lindsay lay on her back, Danny propped up on his elbow next to her, his arm draped over her stomach. He fingered the silky fabric of her shirt, then ran his fingers over the smooth, pale skin that peeped out.

"You did all this for me… but really, I owe _you_," she said thoughtfully, twirling a cherry stem between her teeth.

"You owe me for what?"

"Oh, gee, I don't know. Incredible patience. Forgiveness. A round-trip plane ticket to Montana. Everything I put you through."

Danny frowned. He wasn't going to allow her silly, nagging, unnecessary guilt put a damper on her enjoyment tonight. "It's not like that," he sighed. "It's not about settling debts or getting something back. I did it because I care about you. There is no where else I'd rather be." Besides, the way he figured, he had benefited infinitely in the happiness department—he certainly hadn't come out empty handed. That plane ticket was the single best investment he had ever made.

She sighed sadly. "And you almost lost your hand."

With his still sore but functional hand, he reached over and took hers. In a way, she had saved his life that day. Reliving the previous night in his mind had given him the courage to keep fighting. Over the blood and the pain and the fear, he could still smell her hair and feel the warmth of her skin against his. He had everything he ever wanted, and those goons sure weren't going to take it away from him.

He kissed her fingertips, slowly, allowing each one to linger on his lips. "Stop," he murmured; part command, part request.

"I know, I know." Lindsay was quiet for a moment, humbled perhaps, then she changed the subject. "So, why do they have fireworks four days before the Fourth of July?" she asked, mussing his hair with her fingers.

"Tradition," he replied. "It's always the Saturday before the Fourth."

She pointed to the western sky. "Look! A full moon. The one in June is called a Full Strawberry Moon. When we were kids in Montana, we always went berry picking that night."

He smiled, leaning over to place a gentle kiss on her neck. He loved the little stories and tidbits she shared, little anecdotes dropped here and there for him to gather up and treasure. He always felt as though he couldn't get enough of her, as if learning every detail could somehow make up for the lackluster years before she came into his life. Which was why, he suddenly realized, he didn't want to spend a single minute apart from her anymore.

It took him a few moments to gather the courage to say it. He would open his mouth, then close it before uttering a single syllable.

She noticed his odd expression, and eyed him strangely. "Danny? Did you swallow a bug?"

"How do you feel about being crazy and spontaneous?" he finally forced out.

Lindsay beamed. "I love crazy and spontaneous. What did you have in mind?"

"_Moveinwithme_."

She sat up straight, nearly breaking his nose in the process. "What?"

"Move in with me."

She settled back down on the blanket, taking his arm, caressing his skin thoughtfully. "Wow," she said. "I mean, that's big."

"It would solve both our problems," he pointed out.

"Well, my problem," Lindsay admitted. "I need a place to live. But what's _your_ problem?"

"I'm lonely."

She smiled, but them a wrinkle of concern creased her forehead. "Danny, what if we get tired of each other?"

Her question was honest and innocent, but Danny couldn't have found anything more hilarious. He burst into laughter.

"I'm serious," she prodded. "Right now, things are amazing. But what happens when we get used to each other, take each other for granted? What if I spill orange juice on the floor, or you put my silk shirt in the dryer?"

He was ready for this argument. "I have a mop. And I always read garment care labels." He reached over and touched her face, making her look at him. "Lindsay, we can do this. We'll take it one step at a time. Together. It will be a learning process."

Before she could reply, a whistling followed by a crack made them both jump slightly. The fireworks had begun. Purple and yellow dazzled the sky. They watched for a few minutes, as each color exploded, then faded, and another one took its place.

Lindsay leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Yes," she said in his ear.

"What?"

"Yes."

"You mean that?"

"_Yes!_" she laughed, exasperated.

Danny grinned, hardly believing his luck. They snuggled against each other, watching the rest of the display. Their life together was going to be like this from now on, he knew: surprises, some startling, but always beautiful. He remembered a criminology seminar he had attended a few years back, where a psychotherapist had explained how strong emotions could register on a brain scan. The speaker had put films up on the overhead projector, showing an example of a convicted killer's brain; acute, severe spots of color springing up as a result of rage. Danny wondered if it was the same way for people in love—if the feelings were just as chemical as they were emotional, a pulsing current in the mind that could actually be traced and proven. He imagined it would look a lot like the fireworks above them. As he gazed at Lindsay there beside him, he could almost see the brilliant, sparkling pops of orange and blue and red, fueled by his heart, firing off in his head.


	2. First Knight

Same disclaimers apply. Thank you for the feedback on the first part - this one is less sappy, more humorous!

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**Part II**

**First Knight**

"Isn't this the last box?"

Danny stood with his arms around a cardboard container, glancing behind him curiously as he waited for an answer. Lindsay was lingering in the doorway of her now-empty apartment, a look of part nostalgia, part relief on her face.

"What's up?" he asked.

She inhaled sharply, then shook her head. "Nothing. Let's get out of here."

He didn't speak, but just followed her down the steps. He knew when she got like this, it was best not to push. She would talk when she was ready. In the lobby of the complex, she turned to him and said, "I have to turn in my key, then I'll be right out." She turned on her heel and disappeared around the corner.

With a shrug, he took the box out to his car, stacking it precariously amongst the others. He then climbed in the driver's seat and turned the ignition, grateful for the blast of cold from the air conditioner. The late summer afternoon was a sweltering one. He was concerned about Lindsay—maybe she was nervous, or having second thoughts about the move? Even after she returned, and they took off for his own apartment, she remained thoughtfully silent. He didn't want to pressure her, but couldn't help asking, "You okay?"

"Yeah," she replied softly. He knew she wasn't done, so he just waited. As he predicted, the rest was confessed easily. "When I looked in that empty apartment, all I could think of was the loneliness, and the sadness of when I first moved here. I had so much I hadn't dealt with." She looked over at him and smiled. "Now I'm ready to leave it behind."

His heart leapt with relief. He reached over to squeeze her hand, not letting go until they reached his place. _Our place_, he reminded himself. That's how it was going to be now, and they were going to be okay.

-----

As they reached his door, Danny let Lindsay enter first, then he followed, making a big production of closing the door and locking it behind them. He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. "You're stuck with me now, Montana."

She just grinned, setting a box on the floor, then put her hands on her hips, staring at him. _Daring_ him. He approached, slowly and steadily, looking her right in the eye. His hands reached her waist, pulling her towards him. "No turning back. No escape."

Lindsay managed to whisper, "that's not _entirely_ bad."

"No," he grunted, the moment before their lips touched. "Not bad at all."

Unfortunately, the kiss did not last long enough before Lindsay pulled away. "Okay, Messer. We have to set some rules," she said firmly.

"Like what?" Danny screwed up his face. Rules? It was his apartment, after all. Shouldn't he be the one calling the shots here?

"We can't talk about work all the time. Let's leave the cases and evidence at the lab."

He agreed with her on that—they needed the escape. The last thing he wanted to come home to at night was conversations about DNA samples and search warrants.

"We do our own laundry, and take turns buying groceries."

He nodded, this was only fair. So far, so good.

She crossed her arms. "No showering together on work mornings."

_Damn._

She laughed at this reaction, a facial expression reminiscent of Munch's _The Scream_. "Enough of that—let's get these boxes unloaded!"

Unpacking wasn't going to be a big chore—Lindsay was not a materialistic girl, and most of her belongs were either necessary or sentimental, with only a few luxuries. Still, as he helped her unpack, he remembered a conversation he had had a few days earlier with his cousin Jimmy, a newlywed. "Dude," he'd warned Danny. "Make room in your medicine cabinet. Because there's going to be things in there you've never even _heard of_ before."

Danny chuckled as he remembered the discussion. Was there really a difference between regular conditioner, and once-weekly deep fortifying treatment? As long as she didn't expect him to use it, he didn't care.

By bed time, they were both exhausted from lifting, carrying, unpacking, and organizing. They went through the normal routines—brushing teeth and setting the alarm, as if they had done it a hundred times before. Danny crawled into bed first, which felt weird and rehearsed—they usually toppled in together. Lindsay's pre-bed ritual involved slathering herself with lotion, stuff in a pink bottle that smelled like cherry blossoms. It drove him wild to watch her massage the goop into her legs.

"Do you always have to do that?" he snipped, mildly frustrated.

"Do what?" she asked, slowly spreading the cream over her calf.

"_That_. Rub yourself." He nearly moaned.

She gave him a doe-eyed innocent stare. "It's moisturizer. You should try it. Then maybe your skin won't feel like sandpaper."

He sniffed. "You don't have a problem curling up to sandpaper in the middle of the night, that's for sure," he retorted.

Ignoring his comment, Lindsay turned off the light, then lifted up the covers and slid in next to him. "Well, good night," she said.

He leaned over and kissed her lips chastely. "Good night." Then they went still, arms to their sides, not daring to touch each other. _This is ridiculous_, Danny thought. "Whose idea was it to move in on a Sunday?" he asked. Lindsay had never stayed over on a Sunday night before—it was their mutual agreement. They always figured it was best to get a full night's sleep then, no fooling around, and start the week fresh. Any other night, of course, was fair game.

"We're like two sixty year olds," she commiserated, rolling over to face him. She scooted closer, inch by inch, until her head was resting on his chest and her arm was around his torso. "There, that's better," she affirmed. "And it doesn't break any rules."

"Mmmm." Soon, Danny felt himself growing groggy, consciousness slipping away.

Lindsay spoke up one more time. "This is weird. I mean, I've slept here before. But it was because I wanted to. Now, it's like, I'm supposed to be here."

He smiled faintly before drifting off. "You _are_ supposed to be here. You're supposed to be with _me_."

-----

The next morning, Danny got up when Lindsay did, even though her shift started two hours before his. He wasn't going to deny himself the pleasure of seeing her pad barefoot across his kitchen to plug in the coffee pot, hair in disarray, body lost in a giant t-shirt. He grinned at the site of her. _She's here_, he thought gleefully, _for good. She's all mine! _

Lindsay, however, wasn't in a charitable mood. She made a face at him. "Why are you up already?" she asked. Her voice sounded raw, and her face was flushed. Danny wondered if the stress of the move had affected her, or if she was coming down with something.

"You feeling okay?" he asked.

She shrugged, pressing the 'on' button, waiting for the grinder to start churning. "Yeah, I just need a nice, hot shower." With that, she disappeared around the corner.

Danny called after her. "Towels are in the—"

"First cabinet on the left," she finished.

He grinned again. _Perfect_.

-----

"Montana?"

Danny entered his apartment that evening, tossing the keys on the table and looking around for his new roommate. This is what he had been waiting for – after so many years, not coming home to a dark, empty apartment. The lights were on, but she was not in the kitchen or living room. When she left the lab at 4:00, she said she was coming right home and staying there. She had seemed tired, and a little pale. Was she sick? Then he noticed that the door to his spare bedroom was closed. He usually just left it open. _Aha_ – that must be where she was. Checking the handle, he found it locked.

_Knock, knock-knock-knock. _

It was Danny's signature rap, he always used it when he went to her old place. There was no response. He repeated the knock, but still—nothing. Suddenly, the acerbic taste of panic rose in his throat. What if she had passed out? Fallen and hit her head?

"Lindsay!" he called, knocking louder this time. "Can you hear me? Are you okay?"

Silence.

He gulped. "Okay," he said to himself. "I'm going to go get a screwdriver and take off the doorknob."

"NO!" came a sudden cry from within.

Danny felt both curiosity and relief. "Montana?" he prompted.

"Go away, Danny."

He rolled his eyes. Western girls could be so stubborn, he had learned that much since their relationship started. Rather than annoy him, however, it usually only managed to turn him on. He liked a challenge.

"Why can't I come in?" he pressed.

"I don't want you to see me like this," came her stuffy answer, which sounded more like, _"I dode wud you to see be like dis."_

"Well either you're going to let me in, or I'm going to take the door down."

Lindsay groaned loudly. He heard the mattress creak, a shuffling, then the clicking of the door. She only opened it a slit, wide enough for one red-rimmed eye to peer out at him.

"I want you to count to ten," she instructed, "_then_ you can come in." Before he could comment, she shut the door in his face, and he heard her feet scurry across the carpet to the safety of the bed.

"One…", Danny began with a sigh. "Two… three…", he counted dutifully. Then finally, "ten!"

Entering, he saw she had taken cover under a blanket. The brown nubby fleece stretched from her toes clear over her head, leaving nothing exposed. A box of tissues sat on the table, as did a thermometer, a bottle of cough syrup, and a tea mug.

"Aren't we a little old for hide and seek?" he asked, shaking his head.

"I told you," she whined, her voice muffled. "I look awful, Danny, I don't want you to see me—"

Before she could say more, he dove on top of her, kissing through the blanket where her belly might be. She wriggled beneath him, muttering protests. He whipped the blanket off, revealing quite the sight: a red, chapped nose; bleary, puffy eyes; fever-flushed cheeks; and frizzy hair that was flattened on one side.

Danny had never seen anything so damn adorable as a sick Lindsay.

"Damn you," she spat, hissing like an alley cat. "I was trying to rest."

"It's what you get for scaring me like that," he chastised playfully, still kneeling over her on the bed.

"You shouldn't have come in," she replied, reaching for the tissues and wiping her nose.

"But I _missed you_." He grinned evilly, lowering himself over her and kissing her. He felt her lips twitch beneath his own, trying to resist the urge to give in to him.

"You could get sick," she warned. "I might be contagious."

"I had my flu shot," he replied. "You were out in the field the day Health Services came around."

"A flu shot doesn't guarantee you won't get sick." The most miniscule hint of a smile appeared.

_She can't resist me_, he thought. "I'll take my chances." He leaned in closer, peppering her chin and neck with little kisses.

"Danny, no. Stop." She pushed him off of her, nearly sending him toppling to the floor. "Stop stop stop stop stop _stop_." As if to emphasize her point, a gigantic sneeze shook the entire bed.

Danny felt a rush of sympathy. "I'll go refresh your tea," he offered. Maybe a cool, wet washcloth would help. _Oh, God_, he thought. _I'm turning into my mother._ He scooped up her empty mug and went to leave the room, when she called after him in a scratchy voice.

"Wait. Danny?"

He paused in the doorway, turning to look at her. "What?"

"You're very chivalrous, Detective Messer," she told him softly.

He bowed deeply. "Anything for you, mi'lady."


	3. Debut

I apologize for the delay in updating, but here is part 3 of 7. This is a bit of a filler/transition chapter, but more exciting things are to come. Thanks for reading!

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_**Part 3 **_

**Debut**

"So, Mac does this every year?"

Lindsay's voice was muffled coming through the bathroom door. She stood inside, curling her hair. Danny was in front of the bedroom mirror, adjusting his tie. "Usually," he replied. "He didn't last year. With what happened to Flack and Aiden, nobody felt much like celebrating."

"It's a nice thing for him to do," she called back. "A fancy dinner for everyone, and it's not even covered by the department."

Danny smiled as he voiced his agreement. He was quickly adjusting to domestic life with her, and although there were annoyances—like tripping over the high-heels she often left in the middle of the bedroom floor—he loved having her there. It was no longer his home, it was theirs, and that was more than okay with him. In fact, sharing it made it feel like even more of a home. He had experienced downward spirals in his life before, but this time, falling was a good thing; it was only lifting him up.

With a click of the bathroom doorknob, Lindsay emerged. His jaw dropped: she was wearing a silky wrap dress the color of over-ripened mulberries, cinched around her waist, subtly hugging her hips, and coming to just below the knee. Normally, her choice in clothes didn't affect him - he'd seen her naked, after all, and nothing could top that. But tonight she looked hot enough to melt steel. "You," he murmured as he drank her in, "look _incredible_."

"Thanks." She blushed as she gave a mock twirl. "You look awfully dashing yourself, Messer."

"Maybe we should just stay in tonight," he growled lightly, wondering what excuse he could give Mac to get them both off the hook for dinner.

Lindsay shook her head sternly. "Come on, we have to go. It'll be fun. Besides, there's plenty of time for… _other things_ later."

Danny slipped on his jacket, smoothing out the sleeves. "But it's a little cruel, don't you think? No man in the entire restaurant will be able to take his eyes off you."

"Yeah, well. They can't have me." She moved close to him, eyes sparkling with playful desire.

He pulled her to his chest for a light squeeze. She smelled delicious, he recognized that fancy perfume she only wore on special occasions. He assumed it would be weird for him to ask her to spray it on more often. "I can't figure out why Mac invited Hammerback this year," he wondered aloud.

Lindsay chuckled. "That's obvious. So he can invite Peyton without raising any eyebrows."

"As if everyone doesn't already know. I guess getting involved with coworkers is a bad, bad thing." His voice dropped an octave as he leered at her.

"_Very_ bad," she agreed, leaning up to press her lips to his. The kiss didn't last nearly long enough for Danny before she pulled away. "Let's go," she instructed, reaching for her purse. "I'll put on my lipstick in the car."

--

Just before entering the restaurant, Danny hesitated and turned to Lindsay. "You ready for this?" he asked. "If we let them know about us, things will be different from now on."

She nodded firmly, not a hint of doubt in her voice. "They have to find out eventually. I _want_ everyone to know."

He squeezed her hand. As much as he wanted to share the news, he was a little nervous. Still, confidence was key. "Me too. So let's do this."

The others were waiting in the lobby: Mac, Peyton, Hammerback, Hawkes, Flack and Stella were gathered around. It was unusual to see them all in such a formal setting. Casual greetings of light hugs and cheek kisses were exchanged. No one expressed surprise at seeing Danny and Lindsay arrive together, or the fact that his arm was around her waist. The host guided them into the cozy, dimly-lit dining room that was draped in dark green and silver accents. Soft classical music drifted through the speakers, adding a relaxing feel. They were seated around a large circular table, and drink orders were taken.

As the group perused the menus, Lindsay started to get up, and whispered in Danny's ear, "Order for me." Then she disappeared to the ladies' room. Danny was befuddled by her sudden exit. What was this - a test? He looked up and saw Peyton's warm, knowing smile over her wine glass. _Well, she knows_, he thought. _One down, five to go_.

The waiter returned to take orders, but thankfully began at the other side of the table. Danny quickly scanned the menu. Would she prefer chicken or steak? He frowned thoughtfully… he knew she ate both. Like him, she wasn't much for fish, so the salmon was out. Duck seemed too unusual. By deduction, strip steak would be the best bet. If it was the right choice, maybe he could hope for another kind of _strip_ later.

He crossed his fingers under the table as he ordered the steak for himself, then gestured toward Lindsay's seat and said, "And she'll have the same." Not a comment, look, or even raised eyebrow resulted from his action. It was if everyone already knew, but Danny didn't think that was possible. After all, he and Lindsay had taken every precaution to be discreet.

When she returned and slid back into the chair next to him, he whispered, "Steak okay?"

"Sounds great, thanks babe," she replied, treating him to a sunny smile. Her voice had grown a bit louder on the word 'babe'. None of the group seemed to hear, however.

Throughout the meal, Danny rested his arm on the back of Lindsay's chair, refilled her champagne glass as needed, and overall just couldn't take his eyes from her. He stopped caring if anyone noticed or not, he was just lost in enjoying her company. In fact, the whole team was enjoying the casual conversation and laughter of the evening. Sports scores were discussed, humorous stories were told, and even a little friendly debate occurred. The food arrived at the best possible time; just as Sid began to gush about the horsepower of the new bone saw in the morgue. All talk faded as they dug into their meals.

As the sounds of clinking silverware replaced voices, Danny was again perturbed. Not a single person referred to the status of his relationship with Lindsay. This was _supposed_ to be their debut. They had arrived together, shown affection towards each other, he had even ordered her dinner for her! How much more obvious could they be?

Midway through the entrees, he decided to try again. "I forgot to set the trash out when we left," he said to Lindsay. "Remind me when we get home." Of course, garbage didn't need to be set out until Thursday, but she knew his game, and nodded. There was no reaction from their tablemates.

By dessert, they were both downright impatient. "Let's just tell them now," he whispered. "You do it."

"No. You," she hissed.

He lapsed into silence, concentrating on his cup of coffee. He felt her poke his ribs _Fine_.

"There is something we want to tell you all," he began, waiting for the six pairs of eyes to fix on him. "Lindsay and I… uh, we've been seeing each other for a few months now." He was greeted with blank looks – no shock, no surprise. So he continued, "And we moved in together two weeks ago."

Hawkes was the first to respond. "And?" he prompted.

"And what?" Danny was confused.

"What did you have to tell us?" Mac asked.

"That's we've been dating, and we're living together," Lindsay spoke up.

Stella joined in, "That's it? That's the news?"

"We already knew _that_. We're not blind," Flack snickered. "Come on, Danny, who didn't notice those puppy-dog eyes you make every time she walks into the room?" He tried to imitate the look, and everyone chuckled.

"You sent her flowers to the lab, after all," Peyton reminded slyly.

"How did you know those were from _me_?"

Hawkes smirked. "Adam read the card out loud. _To my Montana_…", he mimicked.

As even more chortles shook the table, Danny felt his cheeks growing red. Well, this was going great. Not only did everyone already know, but they thought he was some wimpy, gooey mush-pot. And he most certainly _wasn't_.

"In fact," Sid said, as he prepared to stab his slice of key lime pie. "I think _I_ called it first. I'm very perceptive like that, you know. I can _smell_ chemistry."

"Oh, hardly," Mac disagreed. "I knew it from day one. These two couldn't keep their eyes off each other. "

As the group bickered playfully, Danny realize the irony of it all: everyone else had seen their connection for quite awhile, before the two of them even did. Damn, he was lucky she didn't slip away. He would have missed out on so much--even the little things he was just starting to enjoy, like having _her_ mail come to _his_ address.

"No matter who saw it first," Stella said, picking up her champagne glass, "I think the one thing we can all agree on is what a great couple these two make."

"Here, here!" Mac saluted with his own glass.

"To Danny and Lindsay!"

The warm moment was interrupted by a mischievous Hawkes. "Does this mean we can tease you guys at work now?"

"NO!" Danny and Lindsay chorused in unison, knowing their answer was a futile one, regardless.

After the last cup of coffee had been drained, and the dessert plates cleared away, the group gathered in the lobby to say goodbye. Lindsay was chatting with Stella and Sid, Mac and Hawkes were discussing the photography on the wall. Flack approached Danny, a twinkle in his eyes. Danny had a feeling he was about to get some major ribbing from his friend.

"So I guess you've finally met your match with Monroe," Flack chuckled. "I can't count on you for the department's Most Eligible Bachelor competition this year, huh?"

Danny laughed—though there was no such competition, the idea was entertaining. "No, sorry, pal," he replied. "It's not quite the ball and chain, but…"

"This is serious stuff," Flack finished for him. He slapped his friend on the shoulder as he turned to leave. "It's not just Danny Messer bedding a coworker. Catch you tomorrow, Mess."

He suddenly became aware of Lindsay at his side. The rest of the team was already gone, and she had ventured over at the worst possible time. Painted on her face was a look of extreme hurt. Danny groaned—she had heard the tail end of Flack's comment. More specifically, the 'Danny Messer beddings a coworker' line.

"Wait, Lindsay, I can explain," he started.

"Is that all this is?" she demanded, not even letting him speak. "'Bedding a coworker'? What exactly is it you're after, Danny?" She had one hand on her hip, right leg thrust out, with fire in her eyes. He made a mental note not to piss her off ever again. But this really wasn't _his_ fault.

"What _is_ this?" she repeated.

He swallowed hard. This wasn't going to be cleared up simply, she wouldn't believe that it was a joke. _Time to grovel_, he thought.

"Okay, you want to know?" He took her arm, turning her around, and pointed to an older couple waiting to be seated. They were holding hands contentedly, seated so close their legs were touching, and sharing a private laugh. "You see that? That's what I want. Thirty years from now, I want that to be us. I will still want that in fifty years." His voice grew louder with each word, and people began to stare. He didn't care—hell, he'd ask for a microphone if he had to. "When I hear people talking about dating and breaking up, I know I'm done with that crap. This is it for me, Lindsay—you're _it_ for me. There will be no other woman."

The anger had melted from her face, but the look that replaced it was not one of teary-eyed emotion, but instead-- smugness. "I was just kidding, you know," she confessed. "I knew it was Flack making a joke."

Danny was stunned. Great, he had just opened up the floodgates of his heart for no reason?

She went on. "But I appreciate that, and I'm holding you to it." She added sweetly, "and it's mutual."

He went to embrace her, but she stopped him by holding up a finger. "If you want to bed that coworker, we'd better get going." She winked and headed out the door.

Like he always did, and like he always would – smiling so hard he thought his cheekbones would fracture - he ran to catch up with her, ready for whatever was in store for them.


	4. Challenge

Author's Note: First, my apologies for not updating in so long. I went through a different time with writing, where I grew frustrated with the world of fan fic, and my own abilities. I had to take a hiatus for my own sanity! Slowly, I'm getting back into the swing of things. The light material of this chapter has helped, since it is mostly humor. I feel like I am still trying to find my niche again.

Anyway, enjoy! There are three parts left after this one – and the wait will not be nearly as long for the following chapters.

* * *

**Part IV**

**Challenge**

Tension was heavy in the air. He crouched and licked his lips, like a lion stalking its next meal on the Serengeti. The unknowing victim, light and agile on her feet, was nearly within reach of his claws. Stealth, silence, and strategy consumed the seconds as they ticked by. The predator nearly had his prey.

Danny glanced around the dim hallway, glad there was no one else around. Lindsay was making her way towards the women's locker room, as he lurked behind the janitor cart, waiting. The second she was close enough, he dashed out and grabber her, his strong arms nearly lifting her off her feet. She squeaked in surprise as he pushed her against the wall and began kissing the breath out of her, his hands journeying up under her shirt.

"Mmmph… grrmmmph….. _Danny_!" Writhing and muttering, she pushed away from him.

He pulled back, wondering why she was protesting. "What's wrong?" he asked, allowing his lower lip to protrude in the slightest of pouts.

"We can't do this anymore," she panted, holding him at bay with one hand, tucking her shirt back in with the other.

_Uh-oh, this can't be good_, Danny thought. _Just play dumb_. "We can't do what?"

"This," she said. "Maul each other like…", she paused, smoothing her hair with her palm, "mating jungle animals." She blushed, and smiled slightly. "Well, not at _work_, anyway."

The majority of the time, during arguments, Danny would give in to Lindsay. It was always easier to just let her have her way, and most of the time he was happy to do so. He had learned to chose his battles. This time, though, he wasn't going to surrender without a fight - he had needs, after all. He decided to try a little diplomatic reasoning. "We're careful, we're discrete, no one knows if we sneak in a little 'visit' during the day," he prodded. "Give me one good reason why we should stop."

"Because we're professionals… we should be _professional_… this is _not_." Lindsay's eyes were twinkling--she knew Danny would be reluctant, and she knew how to play him. He was putty in her hands. She knew that the way to get him was to make a challenge. "Let's make a bet. We'll see who can take the temptation, who will break first."

His competitive side emerging like a lion from the grass, he sneered. "Oh, I can handle it. The question is, can you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Here's the terms: the first person to make unprofessional physical contact, while we are working, loses."

"You're on. And what does the winner get?"

"The loser will do the laundry for a week. All of it."

Danny grinned. Now that sounded great. It would be hard to keep his hands off Lindsay in the work place, but having her do his laundry for a week was worth the effort involved. "Deal. Should be shake on it?" Lindsay made a face, so he added, "Shaking is _professional_ contact."

She grabbed his hand and shook briefly. "Deal," she called sweetly over her shoulder, sashaying off to the locker room, her hips moving purposefully in a teasing rhythm.

Danny looked heavenward and moaned. "Give me strength."

---

Back in the trace lab, Danny felt more confident - even a bit smug. It would be easy enough to avoid temptation - he and Lindsay had been on separate cases lately, anyway. All he had to do was get through his day and focus on work exclusively. The other part of his brilliant strategy was to get her to break, then the rewards would be all his. Since it was almost a given he would win, he wished he had made some more demands about what the reward should entail. He could think of lots of things which would guarantee him the best week of his life.

He unwrapped a purple velvet riding jacket, which had belonged to the victim in his most recent case: a young equestrian star stabbed to death with a manure-encrusted pitchfork. Grateful that the pitchfork had been left to someone else to process, he picked over the jacket centimeter by centimeter, finding nothing curious except for a white, granular substance in the left pocket.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to see Mac entering the lab, frowning. "Mornin', Boss," Danny chirped. After five years, he knew not to take Mac's grim expressions seriously.

"Anything from the jacket?" Mac asked, ignoring Danny's greeting.

Danny showed him the white trace, a sample of which was bagged and ready for testing. "Looks like sugar," he replied. "How it got into her pocket, I don't know, but maybe it can help us trace her steps last night."

Mac tossed a file down on the counter top. "I just spoke with her landlord. Turns out our vic's boyfriend is a member of the NYPD Mounted Unit."

"So horses were something they had in common, then. Did you get a name?"

"Officer Randy Mains. He isn't out on patrol yet, but should be at the stables. I want you to head over there and talk to him. If he wasn't involved in his girlfriend's death, then he probably doesn't know what happened to her yet." As Danny began to shrug off his lab coat, Mac added, "Take Lindsay with you."

Danny froze. _No. Not good. Not Lindsay_. Usually, he would jump at the opportunity to work with Lindsay. This week, though, he needed to stay far away from her, until shift was up. "She, uh, she's got her hands full. I can take this myself," he offered, attempting to be nonchalant but knowing he had failed as soon as the words left his mouth.

Mac shook his head. "She and Stella just wrapped up their case, and we could use some extra hands in trying to solve this one."

Danny, desperate now, tried stalling. He pointed to the riding boots on the table. "What about the rest of the clothing? Shouldn't I check those out first?"

"I'll have Adam take over these things." Mac paused, his eyes boring into Danny's. "Are you two having some kind of lovers' quarrel? Because I can't have your relationship affecting—".

"No, no, everything's fine," Danny assured him. It wasn't worth getting either one of them in trouble, especially after they put so much effort into keeping their personal lives separate from work. Mac was overly perceptive sometimes. "I'll get going."

Mac nodded curtly. "I already flagged Lindsay down in the hallway, she said to meet her at the truck."

"Great," he muttered, hoping the sarcasm wasn't evident to his boss. He slipped off his rubber gloves, tossed them in the trash, and headed for the elevator. Downstairs, she was waiting for him, leaning against one of the black SUVs.

"You drive," she called, tossing him the keys, smiling as innocently as a child. Once they were both seated inside, her voice took on a distinctive, seductive tone. "You know, the garage is so dark, so empty… no one is around…". She leaned forward slightly, smiling invitingly, lips begging for just one kiss.

Danny licked his own twitching lips, but caught himself and resisted the urge. "I don't think so. This car is department property. We're still on the clock." He sneered at her as he turned the key in the ignition and began backing out. "Nice try, Montana." Victory, he knew, would soon be his.

Morning traffic seemed lighter than usual, and their conversation during the ride was mundane and unremarkable. Arriving at the Mounted Unit's stable, there was no one around. The night shift horses were resting in the cool darkness, the smell of sweet hay permeating the air.

"I guess it goes with the territory, but it smells like a barnyard in here," Danny cracked.

"I love the way horses smell." Lindsay stood on her toes to peer in the first stall. A handsome black gelding stuck his head over the door and began nuzzling her. "Hi, big guy," she murmured, stroking his velvety nose.

"Hey, no flirting," Danny warned.

"You jealous?"

"Maybe," he huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets as his girlfriend loved freely on the big creature. "At least horses don't have laundry to do."

Lindsay's laughter rang out down the hallway, and they heard a door slam around the corner, then footsteps approaching. Danny noticed a large glass jar on a nearby tack box – it was full of sugar cubes. "Whoa, wait a minute. I found trace in the victim's coat pocket, it looked like sugar. Who carries cubes of sugar around in their pocket? Was she a big tea drinker?"

Lindsay opened the jar, pulling out one cube and offering it on her outstretched palm to the gelding. "It's a treat for the horses. They like sugar cubes." The horse crunched appreciatively, blowing on Lindsay's face in hopes of another snack.

"You'd better look out for that one," a man's voice said. "Phantom's a big flirt, but has an even bigger sweet tooth. He's just using you." A jolly looking man with red hair and a beard rounded the corner, smiling. His belly protruded dangerously over his belt, threatening to pop open his green plaid shirt. He introduced himself as the stable manager, and pointed to the badge on Lindsay's hip. "What's the occasion, officers?"

Danny stepped forward. "Detectives. Messer and Monroe. We're looking for Randy Mains. We have some questions for him, is he around?"

"He called in sick today." The man shook his head, frowning. "Unusual for Randy, he seems to be healthy as a… well, horse." He grinned apologetically at his own pun.

"Interesting," Danny muttered, raising an eyebrow at Lindsay. Convenient for the guy to be MIA right now.

"I guess we'll have to visit him at home," Lindsay said. "Can you give us an address?"

When the man returned with a contact card for Mains, Danny thanked him for his time, and Lindsay gave the horse one more pat before exiting the stable. As they walked out the door, Lindsay took a misstep and stumbled slightly. Danny, instinctively moving to steady her, saw an opportunity. He placed one hand on her back, and the other dangerously close to her chest.

"You okay?" he asked, eyes twinkling. Though she had regained her balance, he did not remove his hand from her chest.

"I'm fine, thank you." She blushed, then stepped away, sauntering back to the truck.

Disappointed, his hand dropped, but he smiled nonetheless. Life with Lindsay was never boring, it was always an adventure, always a competition, always fun. He knew that would keep their love growing even after the lust faded; though lately he wondered if the lust would ever fade.

On the drive to Randy Mains' home, she had a faraway look in her eyes, a naughty smile on her face. He grew more curious by the minute. "Lindsay?" he prompted. No response. "Montana, you with me here?" Her smile only grew wider, as did Danny's frustration. "What are you _doing_?" he finally hissed.

"Thinking of all the things I'll be doing to you the next time you're naked."

Her reply had come out matter-of-factly, as though she had just shared results of a DNA test with him. He nearly swallowed his tongue, and almost veered the vehicle off the road in the process. "Hot damn," he whispered, struggling to regain his composure and imagining the piles of laundry he would be forced to do if he lost. "You play to win, don't you?"

---

At the end of the day, Danny had another plan to make sure he won this challenge. He and Lindsay had agreed to meet outside the locker rooms after shift, so they could ride home together. Standing in the doorway of the men's room, he peeled off his shirt and waited. He knew she was wild for his bare chest, and she would be coming this way any minute. Sure enough, she soon came scuttling down the hall.

"Sorry I'm late," she explained breathlessly. "I just had to—". She froze when she realized he was not wearing a shirt.

Danny beamed, puffing out his chest slightly. He was positive she would not be able to resist touching him now.

"Uh, yeah," she stuttered, paling. "Sure, yeah, I'll uh… get my things." Swerving towards the ladies' room, she dropped her purse, more obviously than accidentally. "Oops!" she giggled. "Clumsy me." Bending over to retrieve it, her low-cut shirt provided him with an ample view that made his temperature rise ten degrees. _She's good at this_, he thought, focusing on the tile pattern of the floor instead of her body. He would not give in!

As Lindsay started to straighten back up, she slipped on the smooth floor, reaching out to grab Danny's leg for stability. She grabbed a bit too hard, however, causing him to lose his balance as well. Suddenly, they both slipped, tumbling to the floor in a heap.

After a few grunts and mumbles, they both broke into laughter over the situation they had gotten themselves into.

"This is crazy," she chastised. "We're just making it worse for each other."

"You're right. I think it's time for a compromise," he murmured, moving his lips to within centimeters of hers.

"So we'll just keep doing our own laundry, like always?"

He nodded. Logically, Danny realized, this was the best choice. If she did his laundry, all his stuff would probably smell like her water-lily fabric softener, and she would iron all of his shirts. He liked his shirts to look worn-in, not starched and stiff. He nodded, standing up and holding his hand out to her. "Shall we seal the agreement with a kiss?" he asked, pulling her upright and against his still-bare chest. Now, after such a frustrating day, he could have his cake and eat it too.

She put her hands on his shoulders, and stood on her toes to give him a peck. "Messer, I think we have a deal."


	5. Squashed Squash

Thanks everyone for your kind comments from the last chapter! It does feel good to be back to writing. I'm gradually getting my 'groove' back, whatever that is. :P This chapter begins to up the Sap Factor, and will continue for the final two chapters after this. Just so you know.;)

* * *

**Squashed Squash**

The weeks turned into months, and Danny and Lindsay's lives grew more and more intertwined. In fact, in the overnight hours, they often found themselves physically intertwined, too.

On this morning, Danny opened his eyes and found that he couldn't feel his right arm. Lindsay was sleeping on it, pinning it underneath her, cutting off the circulation. He twisted his neck as far as he could, trying to see the time. _6:39. Damn. _The alarm would go off in six minutes, and then it would be time for showers, dressing, coffee, subway – the usual morning bustle. It was a routine he had known for years, but having her there by his side somehow made it less mundane.

Using his left hand to reach out and turn off the alarm, he nudged Lindsay with the shoulder of his numb arm. "Miss Montana, time to rise and shine," he muttered. She stirred, shifting slightly, but did not respond. He tried again, clearing his throat and speaking louder. "Yo, Sleeping Beauty, up and at 'em."

A moan crept from her lips, muffled by pillow that her face was buried in. "Sleeping Beauty doesn't wake up until she is kissed," she pointed out.

"Well, you're out of luck, because I don't see any charming princes around here." He gently rolled her off of his arm, and when he sat up, it thumped to his side limply like a sack of potatoes. He rubbed it with his other hand, hoping to regain sensation.

He glanced over at Lindsay, loving how flushed and messy she appeared. She was waking slowly, the expression on her face still foggy. He remembered reading somewhere that the body's testosterone level was highest in the mornings, and his certainly validated that statistic. He growled, then leaned over to nip gently at her neck. "Maybe I can find a better way of making you alert," he teased, kissing up the side of her neck all the way to her ear.

"We don't have time," she croaked, though not moving away from his touch. "Even though I'd love nothing more than to stay in bed all day, we can't."

He threw out a suggestion he knew was impossible. "Call Mac. Tell him we're calling in horny."

This at least succeeded in making her laugh, and she propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. "This isn't healthy," she chastised.

"Sure it's healthy. It's good exercise." He positioned himself over, dipping down into a push-up. "Good for the biceps, the pecs… you like those, right?" He hovered with his lips merely a breath from hers, but as she went to kiss him, he pushed back up.

She made a face. "You tease. Anyway, that's not the kind of 'unhealthy' I mean. What I'm saying is, this has become an obsession. We're addicted to each other."

"There are worse things to be addicted to," he retorted, reluctantly leaving the warmth of the covers and her body behind as he stood and moved towards the bathroom shower.

Lindsay called after him. "Hey, it's Wednesday! It's my day to shower first!"

"Sorry, you lost your chance," he replied. "Too bad you wasted so much time trying to make a move on me." Cackling, he shut the bathroom door behind him, and turned on the hot water. It was almost impossible to remember what life had been like before she moved in – those days of loneliness seemed like ancient history now. Getting to know her through work was how he had first fallen for her, but living with her was a whole new dimension of discovery. Even when she wasn't there physically, her scent, her aura, her presence lingered in every room. He wasn't alone anymore.

--

That evening, Danny entered his apartment after work, feeling extremely tired and cranky. His bad day included the chase of a suspect that nearly gave him a twisted ankle, two hours spent digging through greasy garbage from a fried chicken joint, and it had only gotten worse when his shift ran over by about two hours.

Lindsay, however, had left work on time, and was curled up on the sofa when he walked in. "Hey," she greeted him cautiously.

"Hey," he replied, tossing his keys down on the desk and heading to the kitchen. "Damn, I need a drink."

"Wait, Danny, I need to tell you something." She was biting her lip, a classic sign of worry.

"What's up?" he asked, rather impatient.

She stood up. "You, um, you know that expensive goose-down blanket of yours, the navy blue one?"

"Yeah… the one my grandmother gave me when I was nine?". He suddenly had a feeling this wasn't going to be good.

She winced, as if his instant recollection pained her. "Yeah, that one."

"Why, what about it?" he pressed, irritated now. All he wanted to do was go drown his frustrations in an icy cold beer, and change into something more comfortable.

Lindsay looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers together. "I spilled nail polish all over it," she admitted sheepishly.

"You spilled nail polish on my blanket?" he repeated carefully, not sure he was processing this.

"Yes." Her voice was nearly inaudible. "I'm sorry."

Okay, this was too much. He was familiar with some of the hazards of life with a woman: her bath oil making his tub more slippery than an ice rink. Accidentally using her shampoo and spending the rest of the day smelling like a mango smoothie. Now this just drove it home - Girl Stuff was ruining his property! "How the hell did that happen?" he moaned.

Sorrowful brown eyes fixed on him. "I was on the bed, painting my toes, and I knocked the bottle over." He followed her back into the bedroom, where the blanket lay on the floor, covered in pearlescent coral spatter.

"It will never come out," he lamented, horrified. Thank goodness it hadn't gotten on the carpet.

"I tried wiping it, but it's no use. I'll go buy you another one this weekend."

"It's ruined. And it can't be replaced." He realized he wasn't really that upset about the blanket, but the long day had made him pissy and whiny. He wasn't willing to let this go easily.

"Are you mad?" she questioned in a tiny voice.

He sighed, feeling a tug at his heart by the sight of her remorseful face. He also noticed that only three of her toenails were painted. Obviously, she had been too upset to even finish the job. "No, I'm not mad. It's just been a crappy day. I need a beer, and dinner." He left her in the bedroom with the splattered blanket.

Once in the kitchen, he stared into the empty abyss of the refrigerator. He could have sworn he had one beer left, but a quick glance at the recycling bin told him that she had finished off his stash. _He_ certainly never drank her fruit-flavored vitamin-enhanced spring water. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, then jumped slightly when he realized she had followed him in the kitchen.

"Sorry," she said from behind him. "I drank it after I spilled the polish, because I needed some liquid courage. I was going to go out to the market and get some groceries anyway. I'll go do that now." She reached for her purse, then added awkwardly, "Do you want to come?"

He nodded, agreeing only in an attempt to make peace. _Choose your battles_, he reminded himself. A beer and a blanket were hardly worth it. "Sure, I'll go along."

Despite the attempt at an attitude change, he remained sullen and pouty on the ride to the store. Once there, he followed her from aisle to aisle, giving little input as she collected the various items they needed.

In the vegetable section, Lindsay chose a fresh bunch of spinach and bagged it. Danny made a face. "I don't know why you buy that crap," he protested.

She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "If it's leafy and green, it's healthy."

"If it's leafy and green, I'm not eating it."

"_You_ don't have to. But if _I_ eat any more pizza or Chinese, I'll weigh four hundred pounds, and it won't be pretty." She stopped abruptly in front of a large bin of green squash. "Oh, zucchini. I'm going to get some."

Danny crossed his arms and waited as she went to work choosing produce. A pudgy, freckle-faced boy stood nearby, sneaking his hand into the bulk candy bins and eating one piece at a time. His oblivious mother was nearby, getting carrots. _Parents should watch their kids_, he thought grouchily. Stealthily, unaware that anyone was watching, the boy snagged a piece of toffee with grubby fingers, and popped it into his chubby mouth. Danny wished he had his badge on him so he could scare the kid, teach him a good lesson about stealing.

His gaze settled on Lindsay again, who was weighing her selected items on the scale. She was taking the task seriously, scrutinizing each piece. It suddenly occurred to him how childish he was being. It was just a stupid blanket. It was an accident, after all, and was it really worth it? Sure, there were inconveniences in sharing his home and his life with her, but she gave him far, far more than she took away. When he saw her there, rooting through the zucchini, he was instantly overcome with emotion. _Stupid blanket._ Standing a few feet from her, in the middle of the produce aisle, he couldn't hold it back anymore: "I love you."

_Thump_. One zucchini on the floor. "What?" She gawked at him as if he had just suggested they try tofu hot dogs.

So he said it again. He would go say it over the loudspeaker if she wanted him to. "I love you."

She just stared, her eyes as big as saucers. _Thud_ - a second zucchini hit the floor.

The little boy wrinkled up his nose, disgusted by the public declaration of affection. "Ew. Gross," he complained through a mouthful of caramel.

"That's what you think now, Buddy, but some day you'll understand," Danny told him. He strode over to Lindsay and kissed her, against the bin of squash, for all to see.

"Yuuuuuuk," the boy said. His appetite for sweets ruined, he went off in search of his mother.

Lindsay, still stunned, began to babble. "But… I though… you were mad… the nail polish…", her voice trailed off. Despite her bewilderment, however, she was smiling. She reached up to touch his face gingerly, as if she wasn't quite sure if he was the same Danny she had known for two years.

"It's just a stupid blanket," he told her. "It was too small to share, I need to buy a bigger one anyway. One for both of us." They grinned as they held each other, surrounded by vegetables of every color, techno-elevator music drifting from the speakers. The moment was perfect.

"Danny?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you back."

He pushed her against the bin forcefully, kissing her again, not caring who might see.

Five more zucchini hit the floor. _Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump_.


	6. Twelve Books

This is the next-to-last installment. Thank you for the words of support! Two notes on this chapter: First, the "honey" mention, yes I know that was in 406. But since I've had that portion written for months, I wasn't going to change it!

Also: The end of this chapter contains a riddle. If you figure it out, _PLEASE_ **do not put the answer in your review**!! This will spill the beans for everyone else. If you want to imply whether you figured it out or not, that's fine, but please don't give it away. ;) And if you didn't, don't worry, the answer will be in the beginning of the next, and final, chapter.

* * *

**Twelve Books**

The blustery winter afternoon was quickly fading to evening as Danny stared out his bedroom window. It had been his day off, while Lindsay was working a double shift. Days off were not as fun as they used to be. In the past, he would just watch mindless television or run errands, enjoying the rare slow pace. And while it had been nice to sleep in, much of this day had been too lonely for his liking. He had become far too used to another presence in his home – her voice, her footsteps, her scent. For one brief, insane moment, he had considered going in to work, just for the company – then snapped out of it, because he wasn't that desperate. He hadn't talked to Lindsay since this morning, though, and he was fidgety as he waited for her return. He reminded himself that he should enjoy the idleness while it lasted, because before long, she would probably start leaving him a "To Do" list.

He jumped when the phone rang, jerking him from deep thought. Stifling a yawn of boredom, he picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Is there a Lindsay Messer at this number?" a woman's voice asked politely.

He nearly choked. "Wh-who?" he stuttered, wondering if his own ears were playing tricks on him.

"Lindsay Messer."

He had heard right, it was clear as a bell. Lindsay _Messer_? In his dreams, maybe. He could not bring himself to speak – it was as if wet cement covered his tongue.

Then the woman added, "Or, perhaps… a Lindsay Monroe?"

He recovered, though only slightly. "This is Lindsay Monroe's residence," he managed to reply, all too aware of the squeak in his voice. "She isn't here, can I give her a message?"

"Oh! Wonderful. Well, this is MNB Bank. I have a check here written under Lindsay Monroe's account, dated three days ago, made out to Oscar's Market. Now, the name we have on her checking account is Lindsay Monroe, but the check is signed Lindsay _Messer_."

"Uh." There were simply no words for this.

The woman prattled on. "This is the phone number she has listed as her first contact. Was she married recently? Perhaps she didn't notify the bank of her legal name change?"

"Uh. N-n-no, she wasn't, um, married. She's still… Monroe." His throat was suddenly parched, threatening to close up on him completely.

"Okay, well please tell her we are going to need her to come in and sign another check."

"Sure."

As he hung up, he began to smile. Then he laughed, and laughed some more. Lindsay had signed her check using _his_ last name! Well, he certainly couldn't wait to inform "Mrs. Messer" about her mistake. She was going to be mortified, and he was going to enjoy the hell out of it.

It wasn't twenty minutes before she arrived home, and he was ready and waiting, not even giving her a chance to say hello. "Is there something you want to tell me?" he asked with a Cheshire-cat grin, crossing his arms as he perched on the arm of the sofa.

"What?" She looked at him blankly as she kicked off her shoes, tossing her jacket on the coat rack. It looked like her day had not been as easy as his.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe there was something you forgot to let me know? Fess up, Montana--how long have you been making plans?" He was enjoying this thoroughly, and the bewilderment on her face only fed his delight.

Less than charitable, however, Lindsay was not in a mood to play his games tonight. "Danny, what on earth are you talking about?" she snapped, then suddenly appeared suspicious. "Oh no, you're smiling _that_smile. What are you up to?"

He smirked, ready to drop the bomb. "The bank just called. The check you wrote at the store the other night? You signed it as 'Lindsay_Messer'_."

She froze, one hand touching the earring she was about to remove. A shade of beet-red washed over her face. "I did what?" she sputtered. "Are you sure?"

"Considering that they called here asking for you, Mrs. _Messer_," he placed an extra emphasis on the name, "I think it's pretty clear what you had on your mind." He rubbed his hands together greedily - he had her cornered, and he was going to savor every second.

"I, um. Well… I don't know. I don't even remember doing that." She pressed her hand to her cheek in shock, eyes wide. He had never seen her so embarrassed, or so speechless.

"They said you need to come in and sign a new check. Unless, you know, you have other plans about just making that name-change legal." A series of guffaws broke from within before he could contain himself.

She groaned, going to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water. "I'll take care of it tomorrow. Are you ever going to let me live this down?" she called over her shoulder.

"Not likely." He got up to follow her. No, he wasn't done playing yet. "That must have been one hell of a bachelorette party," he cracked.

She turned abruptly, fixing him with her steely gaze. "Danny Messer, if anyone at the lab finds out about this…".

He laughed uneasily, then gulped. If Lindsay was resorting to threats, she meant business.

She continued, "I'm not the only one to make silly mistakes. Remember when you came up with the brilliant idea to make a pulley system for the laundry basket, so you wouldn't have to carry it down three flights of steps? Then the cord broke and your boxers were scattered all over the lobby?"

The recollection of that disaster made him wince. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, but I would," she countered.

_Time to wave the white flag_, Danny realized. It wasn't worth the risk of him becoming the laughing stock of the entire department. He approached her then, pulling her tight against his chest. He had missed her so much today, he never felt quite relaxed or comfortable until she was around. "Okay, okay," he relented, rubbing her back. "I won't tell a soul. But I still insist on the right to tease you about it from time to time, in _private_. Besides, maybe I was just a little flattered that you used my last name." She slapped him playfully, and he went on, "How about I take you to dinner, you can tell me about all the exciting things I missed at the lab today?"

Lindsay beamed, that smile which was as dear to him as oxygen. "Sounds wonderful. I just have to change clothes."

"Does Rinaldi's sound good?" he asked as she stepped away. "I can call ahead and have them hold our table."

"Sure, honey."

On his way to the phone, he froze, then swung around slowly. "What did you just call me?"

"Honey," she repeated nonchalantly, before continuing down the hall to their bedroom. "What do you want me to call you? Muffin? Peanut? Pumpkin?"

He held up his hands at the onslaught of pet names. "No, no, not Pumpkin. Honey is fine. Just sounds so… domestic." Yet he was grinning – this was all simply too much.

--

He grinned all through dinner, and in fact was _still_ grinning as he fell asleep that night. The woman beside him in this bed wanted to be Mrs. Danny Messer. There were times he thought no woman would ever want that title. _She did_—the woman he loved more than life. Perhaps she didn't say it outright, but apparently her subconscious was screaming it! The smirk was still present on his lips as he drifted off.

Several days later, on Sunday morning, he woke extra early, while Lindsay still slept. He dressed as quickly and silently as possible and left without waking her. A few blocks from their apartment was his destination - a tiny, decrepit used book store he had walked by a million times but never ventured into. He wasn't much of a reader, anyway. Today though, he couldn't think of a more perfect place.

When he opened the door, a tiny bell tinkered. The inside was cramped, packed to the low ceiling with books, and smelled like a musty basement. He instantly felt overwhelmed, and was grateful when the short man behind the counter approached him.

"Can I help you find something?" the man asked, frowning over the frames of his glasses.

"Yes," Danny replied. "I need twelve books."

--

His chore did not take long, and when he reentered the apartment –_their_ apartment – less than an hour later, he heard the shower running. Good, he could do what he needed to do, then leave again before Lindsay saw him.

The small end table by the soda was the perfect spot. She would see it first thing as she emerged from the hall. He grabbed a notepad and pen and, remembering what he had asked her before she moved in, he scribbled a question: _"How do you feel about crazy and spontaneous?"_.

Next, he stacked the books on the table, arranging them in precise order from top to bottom: _Ways to Earn a Living From Home_,_Interior Design for Dormitories, Leadership Skills for Teens_,_Linguini and Other Pasta Made Easy_,_Ultimate Kick-boxing Workouts_,_Molecular Biology IV_,_Antietam – Grant and Lee_,_Rocky Mountain Bed & Breakfast Guide_,_Rhodesian Ridgeback Owner's Manual_,_Yesterday's News – Today in History_,_Mysteries of the Pyramids_,_Elizabeth I – Her Life and Reign._

Then, taking a deep breath, he turned and left once again. The next time he walked through this door, he knew, everything would be different.


	7. Last

Here is the final installment! This chapter is way sappy, just so you know. If you don't like sap, you may become nauseated.   
I swore I would never write an engagement fic, because there are so many and marriage is not something I tend to romanticize... however, I was struck by the book idea last Spring and couldn't resist those bunnies.

Thanks to everyone for your supportive comments, and also for continuing to read and be interested in the story, despite my 3-month break from writing. This fic helped me get back in the game. Happy, fluffy holidays!

* * *

**Part VII  
Last**

After leaving the apartment, he had gone to the corner coffee shop and settled himself on the outside bench. It was made of stone – hard and cold, with a dedication plaque digging into his back. He mindlessly stared at the passers-by, who were dressed in everything from workout clothes to church attire. Each time a man with a wedding band on his finger strolled past, Danny's breathing faltered. Would that be him soon? Why did he suddenly want that, after never wanting it, and even being repulsed by it, before? That's where she had changed him – underneath all the layers he was still the same Danny Messer, but now he had a taste of what he wanted in life. _For_ life. Something told him she felt the same way. It was in her fascination with the stories he told, the silly ones from his childhood or wayward adolescence, that made other people just roll their eyes. She liked them, and it made him feel like she wanted to know everything about him. Just like he wanted to know everything about her. That's what gave him the courage to take this leap. As there was still so much to learn, he wondered if a lifetime would be long enough.

It wasn't all perfect, of course. Some of her habits grated on his nerves, and he knew there were probably nights she considered strangling him in his sleep. Learning to balance the good and the bad was something they had grown better at. For every incident of frustration or annoyance, there were ten more of bliss – remembering that was important.

Each minute made his anxiety level rise, as he wondered what she was doing and if she had figured out his message yet. Too nervous to take a single sip of the coffee he had bought, he finally chucked it into the garbage bin once it grew cold. _I should go back now_, he thought, glancing at the clock on the street post. Plenty of time had passed. It wouldn't take her long – Lindsay was a detective, after all, like him. They were trained to search for those minute details, to discover the patterns that would lead them to answers.

Coming back through the door was the hardest thing he had ever done. It was an entire lifetime squeezed into a single second, his life flashing before his eyes as he stepped into their apartment. No matter what happened, things would never go back to the same as they were before.

There she sat, on the floor, surrounded by scattered books, tears in her eyes. A notepad and pencil lay nearby, where she had jotted out the answer to the puzzle:

**W**_ays to Earn a Living From Home_  
**I**_nterior Design for Dormitories_  
**L**_eadership Skills for Teens_  
**L**_inguini and Other Pasta Made Easy _

**U**_ltimate Kick-boxing Workouts_

**M**_olecular Biology IV_  
**A**_ntietam – Grant and Lee_  
**R**_ocky Mountain Bed and Breakfast Guide_  
**R**_hodesian Ridgeback Owner's Manual_  
**Y**_esterday's News – Today in History_

**M**_ysteries of the Pyramids_  
**E**_lizabeth I – Her Life and Reign_

In her hand, she clutched the sparkling object that had been inserted between pages 493 and 494 of _Elizabeth I_ – a diamond ring. Merely an allotrope of carbon, maybe, but an expensive one. Even after the painful down payment, he would be paying it off for awhile. Wanting it to be the very best, he had spent hours on the internet one night, researching cut and clarity and carats. Ultimately he had gone with a bauble that was simple and classic, yet stunning. The characteristics reminded him of Lindsay, and seemed a perfect fit for her.

Watching her now, his stomach flopped one direction, then the other, and his heart began to beat as though he were running a marathon. If she was going to say yes, he wanted to know now. If she was going to say no, he wasn't quite ready to hear it. Only at this very second did he realize how terrified he was that she would turn him down. In his life, Danny had been beaten to a pulp, had a gun pointed at him, watched his brother nearly die, and yet he had never been so terrified as he was now. He was truly at her mercy.

"Well?" he finally forced out in a hoarse whisper. His future was hanging by a single moment, depending on her to pluck it out of space and rescue him. What would she say? They stared at each other.

"Are you going to just stand there?" she asked softly. "Or are you going to get over here and put this ring on my finger?"

He threw back his head, gasping with relief. "Is that a yes?" he cried.

She nodded, cheeks damp and flushed with emotion.

He dove down on the floor in front of her, on his knees. "Then I need to hear you say it," he pleaded. He needed to hear that single-syllable word he had been praying for.

"Yes," she affirmed, leaning over to kiss him. "Yes." _Kiss_. "Yes." _Kiss_. "YES!"

He felt like the world was spinning, this was all too much to process. She was willing to throw caution to the wind, and jump head-first into a life with him. "So you will marry me?"

"Uh, generally, that's how 'yes' would be interpreted here." Her face twisted up into a frown. "Did you really think I could possibly say no?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I was just so… it was the… I can't even…". He shook his head, frustrated at his own ability to find the right words. He just let them flow. "All the good things in life, they get taken away too soon. And Lindsay, of all those good things that have happened to me, you are the best. This is for better or worse, Montana. I'll do everything in my power to make sure there isn't a single minute of 'worse', but I can't promise."

She met his gaze without hesitation. "I am not afraid, Danny. I want this just as much as you do. You're stuck with me now." Chuckling suddenly, she added, "All this because I signed that check with your last name?"

"That just made me realize that maybe you wanted this, too." He smirked, his confidence creeping back up. The mood never remained serious for long with the two of them. "And I guess my instincts were correct."

Lindsay was still laughing, the result of multiple emotions bubbling to the surface at once. "This is _crazy_!"

"And spontaneous. No better way to live life." He laughed too, looking at the situation they were in. There they sat on the floor – her eyes puffy from crying, hair still wet and stringy, wearing baggy clothes which did nothing for her figure. But to him, hell, she was the most delicious thing on the face of the planet! The books were scattered all around them. Perhaps it wasn't the most romantic way of asking her to make a lifetime commitment to him, but it was the one most fitting to their relationship. They were not a proposal on a bridge at sunrise, or a ring hidden in a bouquet of roses. He could have taken her back to Cozy's, request that the band play some romantic tune, then get down on his knee. But that was not_them_. They were secret smiles shared over decomp, taking risks and following instincts, taking everyday moments and turning them into games.

"Us. Married. Wow. We won't ever buy those cheesy matching 'I Heart My Husband' and 'I Heart My Wife' bumper stickers, will we?" she asked worriedly.

Danny clutched his chest, feigning hurt. "You mean you don't heart me?" he asked.

"Of course I heart you. You know I heart you. But I don't think we'll ever be like that."

He shrugged. "If we are, would it be so bad?"

"No." Her smile spoke volumes. Their future was unknown, a little scary, and completely exciting.

They lapsed into an awkward silence for a few moments, the hum of the refrigerator annoyingly loud. She cleared her throat, and held up the gemstone she was still clutching tightly. "Would you like to do the honors?" she asked.

He thought his heart might explode from his chest. "Nothing would make me happier," he admitted.

He took her left hand in his, her trembling fourth finger stiffer than the others, expectant. Now, the ring he was holding was shiny and sparkling, new. But Danny wondered what it would look like in thirty years - he wanted to see it clouded with age, dirtied from the wears and tears of everyday life. He slid the gold solitaire on, and in that fluid motion, he knew his life had started over. He was done. Done searching, done guessing, done waiting. But no, this was no ending. This was the beginning of his forever, and it looked promising with her by his side. Granted, he knew it wouldn't be without struggles, but they would be able to overcome them. For no matter what obstacles they encountered, they were sure to be always committed, always understanding, always together.

Always learning.


End file.
